


You're Gonna Find Yourself Somewhere, Somehow

by Zarryisbae



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Minor Character Death, My First Fanfic, No Sex, OT5 Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 15:36:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7898260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarryisbae/pseuds/Zarryisbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This work was written based upon a request for the prompt (which I did not handle as literally as I could have): harry and zayn hate mornings and mornings hate them back. but sometimes, there's good.</p>
<p>Or:<br/>Zayn works at a nursing home and Harry owns a flower shop. Zayn stops in to buy flowers and accidentally falls in love with the shop owner instead.</p>
<p>“The fragrance of flowers spreads only in the direction of the wind. But the goodness of a person spreads in all directions.” -Chanakya</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Gonna Find Yourself Somewhere, Somehow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dinosaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinosaur/gifts).



> This is my first fic so please be gentle :)  
> The title is from "Put Your Records On" -Corinne Bailey Rae
> 
> I chose to write a Zayn and Harry relationship that simply doesn't include sex. I tried to go for warm and cozy atmospheres. I didn't get too much into the story that refers to mornings, but I tried to play with a fun AU! I sincerely hope the person I wrote this for enjoys it, I really enjoyed writing it.  
> Please read the tags, there is a minor character death.

“Hey, Malik!” Zayn hears Liam’s voice as he is pushing open the door of Westerville Nursing Center. _I was so close to the outside_ he thinks. He is leaving the building after a 14 hour shift.  

“Sorry, I know you’re off and you’re going home to sleep for the next 10 years.”

“20 years if I can, Liam,” Zayn retorts.

“Right, but I wanted to remind you that Thursday is Heidi’s birthday and you are responsible for the flowers,” Liam says with a stern expression.

Zayn shakes his head, not surprised Liam is taking this last opportunity to remind Zayn of his responsibilities.

“Liam, would I ever let Heidi down?” He asks in return.

“What? No, of course not! I was just saying. Flowers, daffodils actually, are her favorite. You only turn 84 once, Zayn!”

“I promise to have plenty of daffodils for Heidi. And what shall I bring you, roses? Baby’s breath?” Zayn teases

Liams eyes do that squishy thing they do when he laughs. “Get out of here, Malik. I’m sick of looking at you.”

Zayn barely remembers his drive home, all he recalls is stumbling into his apartment, feeding his cat, and falling into his bed scrubs and all.

When he wakes up he has the vague sense that it’s afternoon. His curtains block out most of the light, but he can see a few rays skirting the edge of his window.

He checks his phone and his suspicions are confirmed, he’s slept until 1 PM. He’s been asleep for almost 13 hours and he will have to be back at the nursing home in less than 24 more. He isn’t disappointed exactly, he loves his job. He just also loves sleeping in and loathes when he has morning shifts.

He’s thankful, though. His coworkers keep him sane on the rough days and his patients make everything he does worthwhile. Zayn’s always admired the people at the home. He knows most people see nursing homes as depressing, a place where elderly relatives get booted off only to be visited on holidays. But Zayn has never seen the home that way. 

They all have so much experience. Experience with life, experience with careers, experience with love. He has an endless fascination for the stories they tell about themselves and their children. He can listen for hours to Frank Muller talk about working for the FBI (he’s not sure it that one’s true) or listen to Helena talk about being a burlesque dancer in the 1940’s (he’s relatively certain that one is true). And then there is Heidi, who recently lost her husband, Ray. Heidi hasn’t talked as much since Ray died, but before then she would tell story after story about their adventures as a married couple. Heidi turns 84 tomorrow and Zayn realizes he had better get the flowers now. He has the unfortunate habit of sleeping in past his alarm and will definitely forget if he puts it off until morning.

He knows there is a florist on 11th, right below his favorite tattoo parlor. He’s never been inside but has noticed their terribly punny signs from time-to-time. They say things like “It’s Spring! We are so excited we wet our plants!” or “Having a bad day? Thistle cheer you up!”

Zayn has wanted to drop by the parlor for a while anyway, he’s got another idea he can’t shake. At this point he is running out of space on his skin, but the other night while lying in bed he had a vision of a skull filled with marigolds, and he hasn’t been able to shake it. He’s brought a sketch with him to show Louis.

Louis is finishing up with a client when Zayn arrives so he browses the piercing catalogues the shop stocks while he waits. He only has his ears and nose pierced, but he knows a septum piercing would look wicked. The people at the home would hate it though, he thinks to himself. They already give him so much shit for his tattoos, telling him he looks like a criminal. Zayn has assured them it’s a very acceptable and respectable way to express oneself, but there are still a few women who seem to keep a wary eye on their jewelry when Zayn enters their room.

“Zaaaaayn!” Louis yells as from the back, indicating Zayn can enter.

Zayn goes back to Louis’ studio and feels a familiar sense of comfort. He is rarely happier than when he’s in this chair, getting some new ink and listening to Louis go on and on about Freddie, his son, and the new work he’s been doing.

“What have you brought me? Finally want that tattoo on your ass?” Louis asks with a wicked smile.

“That’s you, Lou, my ass will stay very much untouched.” Zayn smirks, “here’s what I want” he gestures to his rough sketch as he tentatively hands it to Lou.

Louis studies it closely before exclaiming, “Brilliant, as always!” and Zayn lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “I love the flowers falling from the eyes of the skull. How much color do you want to play with here? If you were feeling ambitious we would even make this a sugar skull, although I like the dark tones you have going on…”

Zayn stays with Louis longer than he was planning to, and as he leaves he almost forgets the flowers until his eye catches the sign outside the flower shop below “Tell your Mum ‘thanks a bunch!’ with one of our bee-utiful bouquets!” The sign is adorned with detailed chalk drawings of mums and bees that make Zayn roll his eyes. He pushes the door open a small bell chimes. There is a blond boy with glasses behind the counter reading a magazine and seemingly unaware of Zayn’s presence. Zayn makes a quick loop around the shop, halfway through realizing he has no idea what daffodils actually look like. The shop is pleasant though, homey. It is filled with wind chimes and plaques along the wall that say things like “my flowers are my family” and “gardening is cheaper than therapy.” It has the same feel as his art classroom when he was in grade school.  All of this, along with the pleasant floral aroma, makes Zayn think he might be able to do some good sketching in the calm, quiet atmosphere of this room if he were given the chance. As it is, he really just needs to find the right type of flower so he approaches the boy behind the counter, who still has not looked up from his magazine.

“Excuse me?” Zayn asks.

The clerk finally looks up and gives Zayn a bright, open smile, “Hiya! How may I help you?”

“I, uhm, I need daffodils. Do you have any?”

“Probably,” He responds quickly, and Zayn has no idea what to do with “probably.” Blondie laughs at Zayn’s confused expression and says, “to be honest with you, I don’t know the names of half of the flowers in here either. The owner is the expert, let me go grab him.”

Zayn laughs to himself as the blond disappears into the back room, reappearing a few moments later with a man Zayn assumes to be the owner.

The owner is tall. His hair is pulled up away from his face revealing sharp cheekbones and big eyes. Then Zayn’s eyes are drawn down past his relatively muted clothing, a gray sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows, dark jeans, a green smock, to his bright gold shoes. Zayn quickly moves his eyes back up to see the man’s hand extended in his direction.

“Hi! I’m Harry. Niall says you need some help with daisies,” Zayn smiles and shakes his hand.

“I’m looking for daffodils, actually,” He says as politely as he can, adding quickly, “I might have said daisies by accident earlier” he’s not trying to sell out Blondie to his boss.

“Well both are excellent choices!” Harry exclaims while clasping his hands together and leading Zayn through the shop. “Our daffodils have been just exploding this year; they’re one of my favorites,” Harry says brightly.

“Cool, thanks,” Zayn responds as they arrive at the right section. Harry’s right, the flowers look like small fireworks bursting from the end of the stem with raptures of warm yellows and crème. He thinks of Heidi as he looks at them.

“How many would you like?” Harry asks.

“Uhm, a lot? Several bunches? How do people measure flowers?” Zayn hadn’t realized what he was saying until the words were out of his mouth, he’s a little distracted because Harry is looking at him in an intense way. His gaze is steady and interested, like he is perfectly at ease and wants nothing more than to be talking about daffodils.

Harry laughs momentarily before saying, “Well, there is no bad way to measure a flower. We sell them in bouquets. So here each bouquet has about 12 daffodils in it and is $15. I think two or three bouquets would make ‘a lot’ for you work with.”

“Right, yeah ok. Three bouquets will do it then. Thank you.” Zayn says to Harry, slightly blushing. He can’t recall ever seeing such green eyes on a person, or such obnoxious shoes.

Harry helps him gather up the bouquets and they head to the counter. On the way Harry asks, “So for whom are you getting these, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Zayn smiles at Harry’s usage of whom, “Not at all. She’s a lovely lady named Heidi.”

“Ah, Heidi, beautiful name. She’s a lucky girl to have such a handsome man bring her daffodils,” Harry says once they have reached the counter and stepped behind the register. He’s facing Zayn now, and Zayn can take in the full effect of his gaze. His brain catches up, though, quickly enough to realize what Harry is implying.

“She _is_ very lucky, she turns 84 years old tomorrow,” Zayn says as calmly as he can, hoping he isn’t too eager to imply Heidi is certainly not a romantic interest.

“84!? That’s incredible. Is she your grandmother?” Harry’s eyes are practically sparkling as he beams at Zayn.

“She isn’t, I work at the Westerville Nursing Center. She’s one of the residents. She specifically requested daffodils and I couldn’t let her down.”

“No, that would be a tragedy. Alright then, your total comes to $32.10,” Harry responds. Zayn isn’t excellent at math but even he knows the total sounds a bit low.

“I think I ended up with 3 bouquets, actually,” Zayn corrects.

“The third is on me, for Heidi. Tell her I said ‘happy birthday!’” Zayn is stunned for a moment, unable to respond. He knows it is only $15 worth of flowers, but it makes Zayn feel both incredibly touched and a little uncomfortable.

“Wow, thank you! I will tell her,” Zayn pays the bill and gathers up an armful of daffodils as he heads out of the shop. Before he reaches the door he hears Harry.

“I never got your name.” He says, it’s not a question exactly but Zayn still responds lightning fast.

“Zayn, my name’s Zayn.”

“Zayn,” Harry says, slightly drawn out and slow, “lovely. Zayn, if you have any other patients with birthdays, make sure you come by.”

“I will, thank you again!” Zayn squeaks out before exiting the shop.

His entire walk home is a bit of a blur. He has his arms full of too many flowers, his nostrils assaulted with their scent. He finds himself wishing he had driven, even though it’s a beautiful spring day. He keeps getting stares as he carries a battalion of flowers down Main Street. Zayn can’t stop thinking about the shop owner. There was something about him, something that made Zayn feel butterflies that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Images of Zayn and Harry sitting in the shop pop into his mind almost continually: Zayn drawing in a corner while Harry arranges a bouquet, Zayn reading quietly under the stairs while Harry unloads some boxes, Zayn and Harry sitting in the back room, eating take out and laughing until they cry.

By the time Zayn reaches his apartment he’s convinced himself that he is deranged, that he had certainly misread the situation, and that it would probably be best if he forgot about his trip to the flower shop entirely.

That night he dreams of green eyes and gold shoes.

~

The alarm blares at 7:30 AM and Zayn groans. His head feels foggy and full, not at all ready to move about his day. Archie, his tuxedo cat, hears the alarm as well and gets up from his bed and stretches. A moment later he is on Zayn’s chest, yelling steadily.

“I know, I know. You have to get fed. I have to go to work so I can continue to buy you food. Got it,” Zayn mumbles, simultaneously annoyed and thankful his cat acts as a second alarm.

He grabs a mug full of some very, very strong coffee Liam got him for his birthday and the daffodils as he leaves the apartment.

Work isn’t particularly interesting at first. In Zayn’s opinion nothing is interesting before noon, but by 2 PM he is excited. Heidi’s party is in full swing and she’s even smiling a bit, which is new since Ray had died. She thanked Zayn profusely for the flowers and Zayn even remembered to pass along Harry’s sentiments. There’s cake and old music coming from a record player that the nursing facility keeps up and running for such events. Liam is dancing with Helena and Zayn laughs when he sees Liam’s eyes widen as Helena’s hands land a bit lower on his back than is appropriate. When the dance is done Liam approaches Zayn.

“Helena told me I should take her to dinner sometime. I told her after than dance she owes _me_ dinner,” Zayn can’t stop laughing.

“You two will be very happy together, I’m sure,” Zayn comments.

“Heidi looks happy though,” Liam says as he claps Zayn on the back, “You did good, Malik.”

“I just bought some flowers, Liam. It’s not a big deal,” Zayn insists.

“It is to her! Look at her. It’s nice to bring some life in here.”

Liam is right, Zayn thinks. He takes the flowers that he sees around town for granted, its spring and they’re everywhere. For the folks here, though, they don’t get outside as often as Zayn does. They haven’t seen the tulips in the square, or the flowers lining the courthouse.

“I could get more flowers, more often. For spring, you know,” Zayn says before he realizes what he’s just committed to.

“You know, that isn’t a terrible idea. I’ll have to check with some of the patients and the physician, allergies you know, but if they clear it I think they would love it. We could even give some of the residents their own plant to care for,” Liam is getting exciting now, talking quickly with big hand gestures. “I’ll talk to accounting about straightening out the budget. Actually, it’s a great idea, Zayn. They would love that.”

While Liam continues to ramble about the plants, Zayn thinks of the shop on 11th and wonders what kind stupid sign they have out front today.

~

As it turns out, the physician does clear it and accounting straightens out the budget. The Center’s therapist even approaches Zayn to tell him what a great idea she thinks it is to give the residents plants. She says taking care of something, even a plant, can give them a renewed sense of hope. Liam offers to help Zayn get the flowers to the center but he says he can handle it himself. Mostly, he feels like the shop is his own little secret. Harry is a creature that exists in his world, not someone he wants to share with anyone else. At least, not for now.

It’s raining when he goes back to the shop this time, a steady drizzle that makes Zayn’s hair fall into his eyes and makes the sky gray. The sign in front of the stop says “What kind of bears only go out when it rains? Drizzly bears.” Zayn thinks that one is a stretch; it doesn’t even have anything to do with flowers. He snorts and walks into the shop, comforted by the sound of the tiny bell.

There is no Niall that Zayn can see today, just Harry. He is up on a ladder trying to organize a row of watering cans on the top shelf of his center display. The bell must startle him, though, because as soon as he enters Zayn sees Harry jump slightly, and Zayn is terrified for a moment he will fall. He steadies himself before turning around and locking eyes with Zayn.

Harry’s hair is down today, shiny curls that fall around his to his shoulders. His hair is longer than Zayn might have thought when he first saw it in the bun. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are the same green.

“Zayn! Welcome back. You scared me a bit,” He admits, looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to. I was worried you might fall.”

“It’s fine, happens to me a lot. We don’t get a lot of business on the rainy days. I wasn’t expecting anyone in at...” Harry glances at his watch, “ten thirty.”

“Maybe it’s because of your terrible signs that you don’t get much business,” Zayn jokes.

Harry’s mouth falls open in mock offense. “That sign is hilarious!” He argues.

“It has nothing to do with flowers. And drizzly bears? Really?”

“Well, you tell me a better rain joke.” Harry huffs as he climbs down from the ladder.

“You could just put ‘come in and buy some flowers,” Zayn suggests.

“Zayn, Zayn, Zayn,” Harry tuts, “that is incredibly boring and not at all what my clientele has come to expect.”

Zayn laughs and then silence falls between them. He is looking around the shop, everything looks almost the same. The flowers somehow smell even better combined with the smell of the rain outside. Harry clears his throat capturing Zayn’s attention.

“Did Heidi like her flowers?” he asks.

“She adored them. I passed along your sentiments,” Zayn assures him.

“You did? I’m so glad. Are you looking for more flowers for your patients?”

Zayn nods, “I am, actually. Its spring, you know? And I think they miss seeing the flowers outside so I want to bring some inside.”

Harry hums appreciatively to Zayn’s statement, “That is a great idea. Spring is the best. I’m glad – I mean, I think it’s great you thought of us for your flower needs.”

Zayn smiles shyly, unsure of how he wants to phrase his response. His heart is beating quickly, and he wants to blurt out _I have been thinking of you all the time_. But instead he says “you were really helpful last time,” somewhat lamely.

“I aim to please,” Harry beams, “ok, so what do you want? More bouquets?”

“I was thinking some bouquets, but also actual plants. Like ones in pots with roots. The therapist at the center thinks it would be good for the patients to care for something on their own like plants.”

“Oh that’s brilliant!” Harry’s eyes light up. “We have a lot of that. Books on gardening and plant care, too, if you think you need them. I know there is loads of information on the internet now but there is something about books and I think older people might like them. I have flowers, both high maintenance and ones that are easy to care for. If you think they might like a challenge I would recommend an orchid, if you think they’ll forget to water it then I suggest something like a fern. Those are hard to kill, even Niall can handle them…”

Harry keeps going about plants for what seems like an hour. Or maybe it’s only a few minutes, Zayn’s brain loses track of time. He’s watching Harry’s lips move and following him step for step and he shows him the different plants in the shop.

Before he knows it, Zayn has bought twenty different plants, as many watering cans, multiple bouquets for the common areas, and a few books on gardening. Harry throws in half of the watering cans, small plastic things, for free. Zayn only argues a little, Harry is insistent each resident needs their own to truly experience plant care.

“This is a great thing you’re doing, Zayn. People underestimate the power of plants,” Harry says once the transaction is finished.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Zayn replies quietly and that seems to make Harry smile even bigger than normal, his dimples reaching new depths.

“Will you need help with delivery on these? You have quite a few plants to transport now,” Harry points out. And, yeah, Zayn hadn’t really thought this through. He probably should have let Liam help him. He can’t quite bring himself to regret it, though, not after the afternoon he’s just had alone in the shop with Harry.

“I can make a few trips. I’ll take as many as I can now and come back for the rest,” Zayn replies.

“What? No. I have a van, let me help you!” Harry is being incredibly kind to offer, but to Zayn “delivery” sounds like an extra service, one that other customers probably pay for. He can’t put Harry out like that.

“No way, I would feel bad. It’s no trouble,” Zayn insists.

“I have selfish motivations behind the offer, Zayn. The way you talk about your patients makes me really want to meet them. If I help you bring the plants to the center I have an excuse to talk to them,” Zayn’s heart squeezes a little imagining Harry talking to the residents at the center. He only hesitates a moment before saying, “Yeah, I guess that would be ok.”

 

Harry calls Niall to come cover for him while he helps Zayn with delivery. Zayn feels a little bad making Niall come in when he wasn’t in the shop. When Zayn says so, Harry laughs a little.

“Niall is supposed to be here, actually. He was scheduled to come in at noon. The thing with Niall is, he has been working here a year and still hasn’t figured out time management, or how to care for plants, or the names of most of the flowers for that matter…”

“Then why – I mean, shouldn’t you..?” Zayn doesn’t know how to ask what he wants to ask.

“Why haven’t I fired him?” Harry finishes for him, and Zayn gives him a grateful smile. “Working with Niall is like working with the sun. And plants need a lot of sunshine. Sure, flowers aren’t his passion, but his heart is right, and that matters more to me,” Zayn respects that, and he gets it. It seems like Harry probably has enough passion for them both.

Niall blows through the door 20 minutes later already talking, “I’m really sorry, Harry. I was working on a paper for my contemporary lit class and next thing I knew you were calling me and I realized how late I was. It won’t happen again!”

Harry gives Zayn a knowing wink before looking back at Niall.

“It’s alright, Niall. How are classes coming along?”

“Not great, to be honest. I’ve got fuck all for this assignment and – ” Niall seems to notice Zayn then. “Sorry, uhm, they could be better. I wasn’t cut out for academics, I don’t think.”

Niall helps them load up Harry’s van and Zayn’s car and then they leave for the nursing center, with Harry following closely behind Zayn. The whole way Zayn is sweating, nervous, wondering how Harry will mix with this part of his life. He realizes the trip is a simple delivery, but to Zayn it means much more. The people at the home don’t know much about Zayn’s personal life, he isn’t big into sharing his own stories, not when his patients have so many incredible stories of their own. Plus, Zayn hasn’t had anyone he wanted to talk about or bring around since he started. It’s hard for him to describe his attraction to Harry, but it’s definitely something different than the way he feels about anyone else. His bones feel electric. He wants to tell Harry every secret he’s ever had and keep any Harry might want to tell him in return. He wants proximity to Harry in all parts of his life. Which, as they pull up to the center and begin to unload, Zayn realizes he is about to have. He’s allowing Harry very much proximity to his life by bringing him here, and he desperately hopes Harry likes what he sees.

As they make their first trip inside, they run into Liam, almost literally, as their view is obscured by the plants in their arms. Liam catches the pot Zayn is holding a second before it slips from his grasp entirely.

“Whoa there! Zayn, I told you I would help. Are there more outside?” Liam asks.

“Yeah, in my car and in Harry’s van.”

“Harry..?” Liam asks right as Harry sets down the potted rose bush he was holding. He extends his hand,

“Hi, I’m Harry. I own KaBloom on 11th. I offered to help with delivery,” Liam takes his hand nodding.

“Nice to meet you, thanks for helping us out” Liam says with a squishy smile only Liam can produce. Once Harry turns around Liam raises his eyebrows as Zayn as if to ask Zayn what he is doing with this extremely attractive florist, but Zayn just rolls his eyes in response.

It takes the three of them several trips to transport everything inside and once they have all the horticulture sitting in the common area of the home, Zayn realizes how much he actually bought.

“Jesus, Zayn, did you buy the entire shop?” Liam huffs.

“Close to it, I think. But don’t fret, I gave him a good deal,” Harry responds. Zayn blushes a little but is actually really satisfied with the haul before them. He thinks the center already looks more alive.

The three of them spend the next hour passing out plants to residents. Zayn becomes more and more thankful Harry offered to come along for delivery as all of the residents have questions he could never answer. Harry spends almost two hours meeting the residents and teaching them about caring for their plants. He even marks important passages in the books Zayn bought for the residents’ future use. They give Helena one of the orchids they bought last, and she is definitely making the most of her time with Harry.

“Young man, your shoes are quite unique,” she gestures to the sparkling silver boots Harry has on today.

“Yes, well, I think the shoes make the man,” Harry shrugs back.

“Oh, I agree. If you notice, I have some rather fine shoes on today as well. It would be a shame if no one saw them. You and I could go dancing and make all the other couples jealous,” She says unabashedly.

“Helena, I doubt I could keep up with you, but I would certainly like to try someday.” The way Harry says isn’t at all sarcastic, and Zayn’s heart melts.

“Will you be back? I may have more questions about this orchid,” she says in her own demanding way. Her tone indicates it would be unwise for Harry to say no.

Harry glances back at Zayn and gives him a small smile, “I will be. I promise.”

Zayn walks with Harry to his van before he goes. “Thank you, you were incredible in there. The residents will be talking about this for ages I swear.”

“I was serious about coming back sometime, if it’s ok,” Harry adds quickly.

“Of course! I mean, anytime you want. Here, you can have my number, if you have any questions about it,” Zayn responds as he scrawls his number on the small pad of paper he keeps in the front pocket of his scrubs.

Harry’s dimples show again then, “alright, I will.” He takes the number and climbs into the van, giving Zayn one small wave before driving away from The Center.

On his way back inside, Liam stops him. “So, Harry is a nice guy.” Liam says with far too much emphasis for Zayn’s taste.

“Yeah, he’s cool.”

“You’ve had a dopey smile on your face since the moment you walked in with him, Zayn. You don’t have to play it cool for me!” Liam fires back.

“I have not! I was happy for the patients, and nothing else.” Zayn snaps.

Liam puts his hands up as if he’s surrendering “whatever, bro. For what it’s worth, you weren’t the only one with a dopey smile on your face. I bet he’s back within the week.” Liam smiles and walks away from a very annoyed Zayn, going to attend to one of their patients.

Zayn tries, and fails, to keep the dopey smile off his face for the rest of the day.

~

It takes less than a week for Harry to return. He texts Zayn three days later asking to come by again on the following day, and Zayn tries to accept in a way that doesn’t seem too eager. He isn’t trying to “play it cool” exactly, he just hasn’t tried romance in a long time. With Harry, he doesn’t want his own desires to obscure reality. He tells himself that, maybe, if he can contain himself he won’t give too much away, and any hopes he has of being with Harry won’t be disappointed.

That doesn’t stop Zayn from taking extra time on his hair the next morning and putting on his best pair of scrubs.

Zayn’s day doesn’t go as planned, though, and around 3 PM after he has just finished cleaning up a huge mess in a patient’s room, he catches sight of Harry talking to one of his patients in the main lobby. He was on his way to the main office hoping for a fresh pair of scrubs. Harry is laughing, looking like pure sunshine in a person. He is dressed differently than he was when he’s working at the shop, today he’s wearing a loud yellow shirt with black flowers on it, and the top few buttons are undone revealing some ink along his chest. He has on tight black jeans and the gold shoes. His hair is down and combed neatly.

Zayn, by contrast, is sweaty from work, his scrubs are stained with something that could be applesauce or vomit, he doesn’t really know, and his hair fell hours ago. To his misfortune, Harry sees him before he can reach the sanctuary of the office.

“Zayn! Hi.” Harry beckons from the couch he is sharing with one of Zayn’s most curmudgeon patients, Frank.

Zayn walks over and tries to keep a casual smile, hoping he doesn’t smell like any type of bodily fluid.

“I was just asking Frank about his fern,” Harry says excitedly.

Frank scoffs, “You all have us caring for flowers like a bunch of hippies.”

Zayn has to laugh at Frank’s comment and the pout it produces on Harry’s face. Harry doesn’t have much room to refute the hippie argument while he wears such a loud shirt.

“A fern isn’t a flower, Frank. Plus, I’ve caught you watering it a few times. Admit it, you like taking care of it,” Zayn remarks.

Frank responds with an annoyed “humph” as he gets up from the couch and returns to his room. Zayn looks up at Harry and nods his head towards the door, indicating they should step outside for a moment.

Zayn feels like he can finally take a deep breath once he is outside where the air isn’t stale. Harry’s head is turned as he surveys the parking lot, punctuating the clean line of his jaw. When he looks back at Zayn he smiles his dimple smile.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” Zayn returns, stunned for a moment, “I’m glad you made it back.”

“Sorry if I caught you at a bad time,” Harry apologizes with a worried expression.

“Nah, it’s been a crazy day. But I needed a break, it’s excellent to see you. And that shirt, wow,” Zayn adds with a little sarcasm at the end.

“Hey! This shirt is great.”

“A florist wearing flowers, how original,” Zayn smirks back at Harry.

Harry just rolls his eyes, “what time is your shift over?” Harry inquires.

Zayn looks at his watch. “It was supposed to be over at 4 but now I am thinking it might not be until 8, one of the other orderlies is out sick.”

“Ah,” Harry says, and Zayn wonders if the disappointment Zayn thinks he hears in his voice is real or imagined. “Well is it ok if I go around, say hi to some of the patients and check on the plants?”

“Of course! That would be great, Harry. Don’t let patients like Frank deter you. They really like the flowers and stuff. And they like you,” Zayn blushes slightly.

“I like them, too,” Harry says, staring directly in Zayn’s eyes.

They stand like that for a moment, until Zayn becomes self-conscience about his hair and sweaty scrubs and looks away.,“I had better get back, it’s a nightmare in there today.”

“I’ll see if I can help with that.” Harry responds as they turn to walk back inside.

Zayn laughs, thinking to himself that Harry _does_ look like something out of a dream.

~

Zayn goes to visit Louis at the shop the following day. He tries not to stare into the window of KaBloom while he walks past, but can’t help but glance at their sign. It says “with kissing and flowers, tulips are better than one.” Zayn shakes his head and jogs up the stairs.

Louis is in his studio waiting for Zayn. Zayn made sure to bring an extra cup of coffee for Lou, which he takes gratefully. They start off by chatting about the tattoo Louis is working on for Zayn, the one he pitched just a few weeks earlier. Zayn has decided he wants it on the back of his thigh, which makes Louis laugh immensely.

“Back of the upper thigh sounds a lot like the ass to me, Zayn.” He notes.

“ _You_ sound like an ass,” Zayn zings back.

“Alright, Malik, if you want me to do this you’ll have to take off your pants.”

Zayn makes an unhappy sound as he pulls off his pants and gets onto the table for Louis to begin drawing the outline. The situation should have made him uncomfortable, but he and Lou have known each other for ages. Being with Louis is like being with one of his cousins, it’s natural and friendly.

Zayn’s able to hold off bringing Harry up for about half an hour until he just can’t contain his curiosity anymore.

“So, you know about the shop downstairs?” Zayn asks casually.

“The flower shop? Terrible signs, eh?” Louis says offhandedly, his focus is on the tattoo gun in his hand.

“Oh yeah, the worst. I, uh,” Zayn stops to wince as he feels an extra painful pinch from the gun, “I’ve been there a few times in the past week.”

“Trying to pick out the perfect arrangement for me? Zayn, you really shouldn’t have,” Louis teases.

“Shut up, asshole. What do you know about the owner?” Zayn asks.

“Styles? He’s a good bloke,” Zayn is caught off by the use of Harry’s last name. He’d only known him as Harry. Zayn is immediately jealous. He knows he has no right to be jealous about Louis knowing more about Harry than he does, and the irrationality of his jealously only makes him more annoyed. There are probably a million other things Zayn doesn’t know about Harry.

“You two are friends then?”

“Friends-ish. I didn’t want to be, really. You know me, I can’t exactly be called ‘neighborly’,” Louis laughs.

“No, that is not a word I would use to describe you,” Zayn replies.

“When KaBloom moved in Harry stopped by every day for a week. Brought me cups of tea, pies, that palm tree we have by the register. He wouldn’t stop until I stopped scowling at him. Turns out, he’s a pretty cool,” Louis’ words are genuine.

“Sounds like he wanted to take you out,” Zayn says, trying to swallow all of his rage and just focus on the burning sensation on the back of his thigh. Zayn glances back to see Louis shake his head.

“Nothing like that, he was new in town and wanted to get to know some people in the area. He said he spent most of his time in the shop, so he thought he’d start by trying to get to know the other shop owners on the street. However, we aren’t exactly a welcoming bunch. Most of us have had our storefronts here for years, he said he had to resort to drastic measures to get any of us to talk to him.”

Zayn’s jealousy is mildly tamed. He begins to relax and visualize how the tattoo is going to look until Louis interrupts his visions.

“Why are you so interested in Styles?”

“Just curious. He helped me with the flowers and stuff, he’s been to the home a few times.”

“Zayn Malik, do you have a crush on my neighbor?” Louis asks, amazed.

“No! Why does everyone keep asking that?”

“Well, you brought him up without me asking, and you’ve visited the shop ‘a few times’” Louis does air quotes, “in the last week, and he went out of his way to come see you at one of the least fun places in the world: a nursing home.”

“The home is fun! The people are great, Lou. And every Tuesday and Thursday we have a riveting bingo tournament,” Zayn huffs.

“Don’t change the subject, you haven’t brought anyone up like this in ages. Are you going to ask him out?”

“No!” Zayn says in a clipped, angry tone. The two pass the next few minutes without speaking, only the dull buzz of the gun filling the air between them, until Zayn asks softly, “how would I ask him if I wanted to?”

~

Zayn can feel his heartbeat in his ears. Its two days after he talked with Lou, and the swelling on the back of his thigh has started to go down as his new tattoo heals. The marigolds Louis drew were absolutely brilliant and fell out of the eyes of the skull exactly as Zayn imagined. The more he thinks about the tattoo, the more he feels like the skull, with Harry being the blooms filling every space in his head.

He’s standing in from of KaBloom. It’s another overcast day, but Zayn likes the slight chill in the air. Zayn can’t see Harry or Niall through the window, they’re probably in the back room.

He had a long dilemma about what to bring Harry. Flowers seemed like a bad idea, Harry had all the flowers in the world. He thought about bringing him coffee or tea, but realized he doesn’t know if Harry likes cream or sugar in either. He doesn’t even know if Harry prefers one over the other. The realization that he knows so little about Harry hit him like a train again, almost making him abandon his plan entirely.

However, Louis recommended Zayn bring some muffins. The shop on the corner of 11th and 4th has the best muffins in the entire world (or at least in the town) and Harry would have to be insane not to like them.

That how Zayn ended up where he was, on the street, petrified to enter a flower shop and holding box filled with muffins. He takes one last deep breath, wishing he hadn’t given up smoking because a cigarette sounds absolutely _perfect_ at this moment, but instead pushes through the door and is greeted by the sound of the tiny bell.

The shop looks different even from the last time Zayn was in, with some displays moving from one corner to the other. He can imagine Harry, bored and anxious at the shop, shuffling things around each day. The front of the store is covered in violets, and on the wall above them is a beautiful painting Zayn hadn’t noticed before. It had swirling hues of purple and yellow, like a galaxy exploding.  Zayn is studying it intently when he hears the back door open and Harry steps out.

Harry looks in disarray, much like Zayn had looked last time Harry visited the home. His hair is greasy and his part is all over the place. His sweatshirt had a huge water stain on the front, and his cheeks are red. However, his concerned expression turns to joy when he sees Zayn.

“Zayn! Hello! What brings you in?” he asks happily.

“Are you alright?” Zayn responds, “you looks busy, I can come back.”

“No, no. We just a large shipment of plants that I specifically ordered to be potted but the pots came separately from the plants and so now I am trying to pot 30 or more plants in my back room and Niall is out today and it’s all become quite frustrating… and I am sorry, this is incredibly unprofessional. Do you need help buying something?” Harry finishes looking sheepish.

Zayn laughs, Harry frustrated and sweaty might be one of the most adorable things he has seen. “I don’t need to buy anything, I came for a visit. How about I help you with those plants?”

“Zayn, no, I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask, I offered,” Zayn replies and he puts down his bag and box of muffins. He takes off his jacket and begins rolling up his sleeves as Harry stares on looking stunned. “Now, how does one pot a plant exactly?” Zayn asks causing Harry to burst with laughter.

They spend the next two hours transferring the various bushes and small trees into large clay pots. Harry was right in saying that the process was frustrating, roots would become tangled and Zayn would vastly overestimate the amount of soil he needed for each plant. He was moving much more slowly than Harry moved, but that could be because he kept getting distracted as he watched Harry in his element, lifting and arranging the plants with a practiced hand. By the end, they had 34 new potted plants and Zayn’s forearms were covered in dirt.

“I can’t thank you enough, that was much better with a partner,” Harry comments, causing Zayn to feel elated at his use of the word “partner.”

“As a reward, we can now enjoy the muffins I brought!” Zayn says as he picks up the box he sat on the counter earlier.

“You brought muffins?”

“Yeah they’re from that place on the corner. They’re amazing have you tried them?” Zayn asks, eyes bright.

“I haven’t but I’m excited to. Why did you bring them?” Harry’s eyebrows are raised and he’s staring at Zayn so steadily that Zayn loses his resolve for a moment. He glances down and his gaze is met with Harry’s shining electric blue boots. Zayn chuckles and finds his courage.

“I brought them because I like you, and I wanted to ask you on a date, and I figured bringing a florist flowers was like someone presenting me a bedpan, you know? So then I wanted to bring you coffee or tea but I don’t know how you take it. Finally, I settled on muffins because these are simply impossible to deny,” Zayn says, realizing that his voice became much softer the more he spoke. He looks on at Harry, whose face is unreadable, terrified. His brain floods with images of all of the worst possible outcomes. He thinks for a moment that his heart stops beating as it awaits a response.

Finally, Harry catches up. His face breaks into a smile, slow and delicious.  “You like me? _You_ like _me_. _You_ want to ask _me_ on a date so _you_ brought _me_ muffins?”

“Can you stop saying ‘you’ and ‘me’ like that please? Are you happy? Is this a yes?” Zayn asks, fear returning.

Harry walks toward him and takes his hands, “absolutely, yes. Let’s go on a date.”

Zayn releases the breath his was holding and his heartbeat returns to its normal pace. He’s in a state of shock and euphoria that he had never experienced. He’d liked people, sure, but Harry was different than any person Zayn had ever known. He felt amazed that, for once, he put his heart on the line and it hadn’t left him a heaping mess. At least, it hadn’t yet. He had made it past step one, he was taking the boy with gold shoes and green eyes on a date.

“And for the record,” Harry adds, “as a florist I _especially_ love receiving flowers as a gift, or bedpans. I prefer tea over coffee but I’ll drink either. Cream no sugar.”

“Thank goodness we have that figured out. And I know your last name is Styles, but mine is Malik and I don’t know if you knew that… so now you do.”

“How did you know my last name!? Have you been investigating me?” Harry laughs.

“No!” Zayn responds quickly, “Well, not really. I may have asked Louis about you.”

“Tomlinson? The tattoo guy upstairs?”

“That’s the one, he’s one of my best friends, most of my tattoos are his work.”

Harry’s face looks unhappy. “So you are telling me you have walked past the shop countless times but only bothered to step inside two weeks ago?”

“I had never needed flowers until then! Plus, the signs…” Zayn is laughing and blushing, knowing how dearly Harry loves the sign out front.

“So I guess you don’t want to help me write today’s sign, then?”

Zayn had been so nervous walking inside he hadn’t noticed the sign out front was blank. He had an idea of what he wanted it to say, though. Zayn asks Harry for the chalk and walks out front. On the sign he writes _I really dig you._

~

The next few weeks pass by lightning fast. He feels light as air no matter where he is, even at work. Liam calls him “insufferable,” but Zayn is pretty sure he’s joking. He visits the shop at least once a day, and occasionally Harry drops by the home to see him as well. Most of the residents are as infatuated with Harry as Zayn is. Zayn notices that Harry brightens up almost any room he enters instantly. His kindness and understanding constantly inspire Zayn.

Zayn learns so many things about Harry, and he hoards the details like a dragon hoards gold. He never wants to be at a loss for facts about him again, throwing out question after question when they’re together. He learns that Harry dislikes early mornings almost as much Zayn does when they both manage to sleep through a breakfast date. Harry reveals that his favorite flower is the peony, but that he feels guilty choosing a favorite because they’re all like his children. Zayn invites Harry over and is annoyed when Archie immediately jumps into Harry’s lap, something he does only sparingly with Zayn. They have clashing tastes in almost everything pop culture, including movies and music, causing many intense debates over what they’re watching that night or listening to while they cook dinner. Usually, the outcome of these debates is Harry bear-hugging Zayn until Zayn agrees to watch _Alice in Wonderland_ , again. Zayn’s original fantasies about life while dating Harry come true, he hangs out at the shop and doodles while Harry works. Sometimes if Harry gets a late shipment they will both stay at KaBloom after dark, eating take out and unloading boxes. Zayn takes up the pastime of pranking Niall at every opportunity, occasionally filling his backpack with rose petals when he isn’t looking or doodling crude figures on the front of his notebooks.

Life is about as perfect as Zayn can imagine it to be until one evening he receives a concerning call. It’s nighttime at the shop, and Zayn and Harry had been debating the best way to hold chopsticks when Zayn hears the theme from _Harry Potter_ , the ringtone he has assigned Liam.

“If you are calling to complain about the second Avenger movie again, Liam, I swear…” Zayn starts with a laugh but is cut off my Liam’s abrupt tone.

“Heidi isn’t doing well, Zayn. She’s fading fast. I think maybe you should come.” Liam’s voice is hoarse, like he’s holding back tears. Heidi is a favorite at the home, she’s lived there longer than almost any other resident. She was there when both he and Liam started. People dying at the home was part of the gig, the part Zayn hated the most. Usually he could compartmentalize it, or remain just detached enough to not fall apart at every occurrence. But Heidi was different and Liam knew it.

Harry is studying Zayn’s face with a worried expression throughout the call. He can tell something is wrong, but Zayn isn’t saying enough to give him any clues, just occasionally mumbling yes or no in response. Finally Zayn says “I’ll see you soon, Li,” and hangs up.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Harry asks as soon as the call ends.

“Heidi is sick. Really sick. Not gonna last the night, they think. I have to go over there.” Zayn says, his eyes staring straight ahead. There is no inflection to his voice, just soft resignation.

“Can I…would you mind if I come too?” Harry asks timidly.

“You don’t have to do that. It’s late.”

“I understand if this is something you don’t want me there for, you’ve got a special bond with Heidi. I certainly don’t know her as well as you or Liam. But I do care about her, and I care about you, and I’d like to be there for both of you if you’ll let me.” Harry looks very serious as he responds. Zayn can tell he’s picking each one of his words very carefully to not offend him.

Zayn knows Heidi’s family lives a couple hours away and might not make it in time to say goodbye, and figures that having a presence like Harry’s there could be good, but Zayn isn’t sure if Harry had ever experienced something like this before. Zayn had experienced it too many times for his taste, and thinks it might be best to spare Harry the scene. It’s sadness beyond words, and it always makes Zayn feel restless, helpless, and angry. But he goes. He always goes.

“You can if you want to, Harry. I appreciate you wanting to support me. Just know it’s a hard thing to witness, and if you don’t want to do it or if you get there and you can’t stay I will understand.”

“Of course Zayn. Let’s go, I’ll drive.” Harry beckons Zayn toward the door, but stops quickly and turns on his heels, “Wait a moment, I’ll be right back.”

Zayn is confused until Harry emerges from the back room carrying a large box filled with daffodils. “Alright, we’re set,” Harry says and walks out the door, Zayn following closely behind.

 

Liam is pacing in the lobby when Zayn and Harry arrive. He looks exhausted, he’s still in his scrubs even though Zayn knows he is technically off duty now.

“What’s the update?” Zayn asks

“I don’t know – the doctor is in with her right now. Her family won’t be here for a few hours more. Some of the other folks have been going in to visit her, but mostly it’s just been me sitting with her. She isn’t…” his voice breaks, “she isn’t talking much right now.” Harry puts an arm around Liam’s shoulders. Zayn just nods, processing.

When they get to Heidi’s room the doctor explains her condition in terms Harry doesn’t understand, but Zayn and Liam are nodding along solemnly. He ends his explanation with “it won’t be long now,” and encourages the boys to page him if she’s in serious discomfort.

She looks frail when they walk in, but her bed is inclined so it looks as if she is sitting up. She smiles when she sees Zayn and Harry.

“Hi Heidi. How are you?” Zayn asks, not really expecting an answer. She surprises him, though, by replying.

“Tired,” She whispers.

“Yeah, I am too. I bet you’ve had a long day,” Zayn responds as happily as he can. He knows in times like these patients don’t like talking to grim faces. If Zayn can offer her some normalcy, he wants to do that.

“It seemed short to me. All your days get shorter as you get older.”

A silence falls between all of them. Zayn is thinking about what Heidi said, about how the time speeds up as you get older. Zayn hadn’t noticed this phenomenon as much as when he is with Harry. Hours feel like moments when they are together. The time rushes by so quickly it makes Zayn dizzy sometimes.

Harry must have been thinking about Zayn, too, because when Zayn looks up the lock eyes. Harry’s are slightly dewy and wet. Zayn knew this would be hard for him, for all of them, but especially Harry. Harry smiles and stands up, excusing himself from the room. Zayn thinks maybe he isn’t able to handle the scene, but Harry returns. When he walks back into the room he has all the daffodils he had brought from the shop. He begins adorning every corner of the room with the bright yellow blooms. Heidi seems overwhelmed at the sight. She beams and takes Harry’s hand.

Heidi speaks after some time, softly. “You boys are so kind to be here with me. I remember when you two, Zayn and Liam, started here as orderlies. You were clueless.” She says with a laugh. It causes them all to chuckle quietly.

“I was clueless, Heidi. I was so scared. I remember the first time I had to dress a wound I did it all wrong,” Zayn responds.

“Yes, I remember, because it was on Ray.”

“Ray was so nice. Too nice, actually, he didn’t tell me how I had stretched the gauze too tightly and almost cut off his circulation,” Zayn says, face slightly pink.

“Ray was exceptionally kind. Harry, you remind me a bit of him. I’ve been so happy to have you around the home, and with our Zayn,” Heidi adds.

“I’ve been so happy to be here. I’ve been so lucky to know you,” Harry says.

She can tell Harry is struggling for words, so she just nods knowingly at him and continues, “I think you make a perfect fit. You take care of beautiful, delicate things all the time. And that’s what our Zayn is. I think you know that.”

Zayn scoffs, “Heidi, I am neither beautiful nor delicate! I am strong and handsome!”

“You are those things, too,” She says but winks at Harry.

They all sit together for a time, waiting and worrying. The boys are relieved and delighted when Heidi’s daughter arrives ahead of schedule, knowing that leaving Heidi with family is the best thing they can do for her now. They all give her deep hugs, Zayn’s arms lingering around her the most, and they leave the daffodil-filled room.

Liam decides to stay at the home, saying he is too jittery to go home and attempt sleep. Harry leads Zayn away and the two of them sit in Harry’s van for a while, silent. It’s dark but the light from the moon illuminates their faces. Harry is the first to speak,

“You handled that incredibly well, you know?”

“It wasn’t the first time I’ve had to do it,” Zayn responds quietly.

Harry goes on, “You didn’t have to do it, though. You did it because you wanted to, because you care about her.  I think that’s incredible and you’re incredible.”

They drive home in silence. Although Zayn’s mood is low, when he looks at Harry’s profile in the moonlight he feels a bit of weight lift off his shoulders.

~

The next few days are somber. The home is somber, when Zayn goes to the shop after work he finds Harry more distracted and quiet. They all suffer through the wake and the funeral, Harry sending the most beautiful arrangement of flowers Zayn had ever seen. Zayn takes a picture of them and stores it in his sketchbook for later.

Liam decides after a week that he can’t stand the gloomy mood any longer. Spring is slowly turning into a hot summer, and the days are getting longer. He calls Zayn to order him and Harry to get dressed for a night out. Liam even sends Harry a text after the phone call to ensure that Zayn doesn’t simply nap through the evening and stay shut in.

Harry arrives at Zayn’s apartment looking dazzling. He has the electric blue shoes on with stone gray jeans. His shirt is simple but the jacket over top of it is extremely loud. It has bright blue and orange flowers embroidered into fabric, and Zayn rolls his eyes when he sees it.

“Are you ready to go? You look great,” Harry says.

Zayn hadn’t taken the time to look as nice as he might have normally, but appreciates the compliment anyway, “thanks, yeah. Actually, I called Lou and he may meet us there.”

“Oh excellent! I invited Niall, too. He’s done with exams now.”

They arrive at the restaurant a bit early for Zayn’s taste but Harry likes being punctual. They grab a table and in no time are joined by Liam, Louis, and Niall. The conversation starts off quiet and reserved, some of the boys only meeting each other for the first time. After a few drinks, however, things pick up.

“I knew Zayn had a crush on you, Styles. Practically had to beat it out of him, but I knew. And I was the one who told him to ask you out so I, for one, think I deserve all credit for any past or future happiness,” Louis says loudly over dessert.

“You weren’t the only one though, were you? I teased him about it since the first time Harry showed up at the home,” Liam adds with an overly satisfied look.

Harry is smiling slightly embarrassed. He comments, “You liked me that much, Zayn? Adorable.”

“Zayn wasn’t the only one acting like a fool, though. Right after you left the shop that first day Harry came into the back room practically ranting about your perfect cheekbones and hair,” Naill says trying to contain his laughter, and failing.

“Niall! That was to stay between us! Where is the loyalty?” Harry asks with big eyes.

“Sorry, mate. Not a problem now though is it? You two being disgustingly perfect together and all that?”

The other boys keep chatting but Zayn just takes in the whole scene. He almost feels out of body, like he’s looking down on a version of his life. But it is actually happening, one of the most perfect versions of his life that he could have imagined. In the time since Heidi passed, he had thought a lot about what she had said. Time is speeding up, racing by and he doesn’t want to be left in the dust. But with Harry, he thinks maybe he is making the most of it. Each day of his life, when he’s at the home talking to the residents or on his couch petting Archie or at the shop talking about nothing with Lou, he has a renewed sense of calm. When each of those days is over he is still walking down 11th towards KaBloom, towards Harry, waiting to see what incredibly silly pun he might have written on the chalkboard that day.

He takes Harry’s hand under the table and decides that tomorrow he will bring him some peonies and maybe some tea with crème.


End file.
